Kindred Spirits
by missxcellophane
Summary: A few years after the events of BtVS8/AtS6, Dawn trades stories with a new friend.


It's always a funny thing, meeting a sort of kindred spirit

It's always a funny thing, meeting a sort of kindred spirit. Dawn had never really found one before. Oh, sure, she had people she was close to—in fact, though nothing could erase the loss of her mother, Joyce, Dawn would admit that she was surrounded by family bound by deeper ties than blood. She had experienced plenty of loss—her father, her mother, her sister, her first kiss…even Tara and Spike, who had been like family—but she always had people around to love and protect her. Even coddle her.

But she couldn't recall a single time in her existence when she had looked into someone else's eyes and felt like she saw herself looking back.

"Ouch," her newfound friend commented, gesticulating with a French fry. "That couldn't have turned out well."

"It didn't," she agreed, taking a bite out of her burger. "I think you can imagine Kenny wasn't very happy when he found out. It was a…messy break-up."

The boy sitting on the other side of the booth smiled sympathetically. "I did my share of stupid stuff, too. Don't feel too bad."

"You do remember the part where that was my first, right, Reilly?" she shot back wryly. She couldn't believe she was spilling her guts to someone she'd just met—over a Doublemeat Medley, no less—but somehow she felt relieved. For one thing, he wasn't judging her. Not in the slightest. Rather like Xander had, he just listened and consoled.

He chuckled. "If you think that's bad, you should hear about my first time."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. An older woman."

"How much older?"

He frowned, thinking. "Early, mid-twenties?"

"Oh, so not, like, Cryptkeeper-old then."

He choked on his fries. Dawn couldn't help but grin cheekily. Once he could breath again, he said, "No, nothing like the Cryptkeeper. Believe me. But…well, she was kind of using me, to disastrous consequences. Not to mention she and my dad—my biological dad—had…had feelings for each other."

Dawn raised her eyebrows. "Wow."

"Yeah," he agreed, with a wry half-smile. "There were all kinds of disastrous consequences I won't bore you with."

She did want to hear them, actually, but there was plenty of time for that later. Instead she let silence reign for a moment as she thoughtfully chewed a French fry. After a moment, she said, "You win."

The grin that adorned the young man's face was contagious. "I always win that one, believe me."

Dawn snorted. "Mine still isn't great, though, you have to admit."

"It's bad, just not in a catastrophic sort of way," he allowed.

"I'm almost glad my mother wasn't around for that one."

"Where was your mother?" Reilly asked, with a slight frown.

"Dead," Dawn replied, with a great deal more ease than she could have a couple years before. Wounds didn't really heal with time—they scabbed rather than disappear, but time and Reilly's sympathy made it easier. "She died when I was a teenager." Actually, in real years Dawn had been, like, a year old, but Reilly didn't need to know that.

Reilly winced, apologetic. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. My biological mom died when I was a baby, so it…didn't hurt as much."

Noting his repeated use of the word 'biological,' Dawn prodded, "You're adopted?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I still see my biological dad, but that's only been since I was a teenager. That's rough, though, your mom dying. I know I'd miss my mom a lot. What about your dad?"

"He left," she said. "We hear from him occasionally, but mostly he's a non-entity, you know? But that's kind of okay, really, because he doesn't really fit in the life my sister and I have now. She and her friends kind of raised me since Mom died, and they're really my family now. My little, weirdo family." She smiled faintly.

"I get what you mean," Reilly said quietly. "I don't think just sharing DNA really matters as much as when you care about someone."

Dawn nodded, though added, "I _am_ really close to my sister, though. I mean, she's obnoxious and overprotective, but I love her."

Reilly chuckled, picking up another fry. "She should meet my dad." After a brief moment of contemplation, he said, "We've got a lot in common, don't we, Summers? Or have we shared enough war stories that I can call you Dawnie now?"

Dawn stuck out her tongue. "Only people who knew me when I was, like, ten call me Dawnie."

"Dawn, then?"

She gave a half-smile. "If I can call you Connor."

"Of course."


End file.
